


Cirilla/OC x "Branle Des Chevaux" by Erutan

by Fluxx



Series: The SS 200, 2020 [3]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Ciri Deserves Nice Things, Erutan, F/M, Inspired by Music, Music, Self Prompt, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:28:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23355448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluxx/pseuds/Fluxx
Summary: -Branle Des Chevauxby ErutanPrompt response for The SS 200, 2020Submit a prompt for The Tune Cruise: The SS 200!
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Original Character(s), Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon/Original Character(s)
Series: The SS 200, 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1679812
Kudos: 6





	Cirilla/OC x "Branle Des Chevaux" by Erutan

Cirilla sighed, kneeling by the forest’s edge. Fingers outstretched, she pushed around a couple small, loose stones. A small smile touched her lips, fleetingly treated to memories of playing knucklebones in the great, bustling streets of Cintra. Her brow softened, vision beginning to blur - what she’d once looked upon with fondness had grown tainted, re-framed in a new perspective’s lens.

When did life become so tiring? She’d found her destiny at last, but it was… nothing like she’d thought it’d be. Geralt was nice enough, of that she had no complaints. Well, mostly. He was certainly capable, and remained diligent about her safety. But, well…

…he just wasn’t all that _fun_.

In the grand scheme of things, she supposed it wasn’t really _that_ big of a deal. After all, she was a princess without a kingdom, and as if that weren’t troubling enough she’d been given this great, mysterious power that apparently at least one person out there in the world was after. Really, she supposed she should be thankful Geralt protected her from all that - and kept her regularly fed to boot. It was unreasonable for her to ask for anything more than that, especially when she didn’t even know what that “anything more” would be.

_Heeheehee!_

Cirilla’s face snapped up, eyes wide. Instinctively, her hand snatched up one of the larger stones she’d been poking, though she didn’t really know what she expected to accomplish with it. Through the pounding of her heart in her ears, she listened, warily scanning the forest stretching out before her.

The mumblings of the quiet town. The trot of hooves along the beaten road. Geralt arguing with the innkeeper about Roach. The rustle of leaves.

Her eyes snapped to a tree. The settling shifting of a low bush betrayed its recent disturbance. She frowned, slowly drawing herself back up to a stand.

She glanced over her shoulder.

“Can’t you waive the stable charge? It’s just the one night! If you want _any_ of our money, you’ll—”

“I’ll get it from some other wanderin’ gripe - someone what _has_ the coin, an’ no wee _trouble_ either!”

Cirilla sighed, looking back to the forest, lush and green and inviting.

_It’ll just be a moment._

“Scoutin’ the area for trouble,” she murmured, gripping her stone tight. She took her first footstep passed the edge of the trees. “Making sure it’s safe.”

The leaves crunched beneath her feet. The low branches brushed against her cloak. Warm sun filtered down through the canopy - with her hood drawn, it could touch but the tip of her nose, yet even that was enough to impart small comfort. She searched the trees, but no matter how hard she looked she could find no one else, neither human nor beast. Admittedly a bit disappointed to have come up empty-handed, she sighed and turned back from whence she came.

She frowned. She thought she’d turned, but obviously that wasn’t the case - before her laid only more forest, peaceful and quiet and still. No matter - she turned.

Her heart started to race. More forest stretched before her, just as beautiful as before but increasingly eerie. Her lip trembled, and she took a wary step backwards, and then another, trying to fathom the endless flora wrapped around her.

“Don’t be afraid!”

Cirilla whirled, suddenly coming face-to-face with… a small boy? She hesitated, eyeing him head-to-toe. He seemed young, perhaps a year or two her junior, with a mess of yellow-blonde hair stretching just long enough to brush before a pair of bright, emerald-green eyes. Spotting the points of his ears, she pulled her cloak tight about her, readying her stone underneath. “You’re an elf?” she asked, wondering if she’d once again face the consequences of her family’s past.

He blinked and tilted his head, a world of curiosity leaning him towards her. “What’s an elf?”

She scowled. “Don’t tease me!” she scolded. “I can see your ears!”

“Huh?” he replied, seeming genuinely surprised. His eyes glanced to the side as his fingers idly traced the edge of his ears. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

There was something unsettling about his pure demeanor. It wasn’t _right_ , somehow, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Maybe it was simply that she wasn’t used to _not_ being attacked anymore? That was certainly a disparaging thought. Her eyes flickered over him again, and she hesitantly ventured, “What’s your name?”

“Reeve!” he happily chirped, all of a suddenly dropping all preoccupation with his ears. He grinned, gazing expectantly up at her with wide eyes. “What’s yours?”

“Fiona,” she replied with zero hesitation.

Reeve grinned. “Liar.”

“I… what?” she gasped. Amazingly, she’d never faced this situation before, and so didn’t have a practiced response for it.

“Hmm,” the little boy murmured, rubbing his chin. He squinted at her. “Mmhmm. Mmhmm. Okay. ‘C,’ huh?”

Cirilla frowned, growing increasingly wary of the odd boy. “I don’t know what you’re—”

“Cici?” the boy asked, instantly sending her into a panicked fluster. “Circei? Ciri? Ciri?”

“Q-Quiet!” she scolded, suddenly planting her hands on the boy’s mouth. Her eyes ranged all around them, frantically searching for hidden onlookers.

Reeve simply giggled, reaching up to gently remove her hands from his face. “Don’t worry, Ciri! No one can hear!”

Cirilla flinched, withdrawing her hands and taking a step back from the bizarre boy. “That’s less comforting than it seems you think it is. Who _are_ you? How did you guess my name?”

“I told you,” the boy laughed, “I’m Reeve!” He blinked, and suddenly an incredibly sad expression came over him, his shoulders slumping and his head tilting to one side. “Wait… You haven’t heard of me?”

As far as odd questions went, it certainly wasn’t the oddest, but that didn’t make it any less bizarre coming from some random boy wandering the forest. Her brow narrowed, taking a moment to examine his clothes - a simple brown tunic, and olive slacks cut off at the knee, with no shoes or socks. Despite his humble appearance, though, he wasn’t particularly run-down or tattered. In fact, he looked awfully clean for someone roaming the forest, which really just made her all the more suspicious. “Am I meant to have?” she warily asked.

“Hmm,” he murmured, rubbing his chin again. “No, I suppose not.”

“Are you a royal?” she asked. “Is that how you knew my name?” An alarming thought occurred to her, and she took another cautionary step back. “You’re Nilfgaardian, aren’t you?!”

“Huh?” Reeve replied, utterly unphased by her alarm. “What’s a Nilfgaardian?”

Cirilla sighed - whoever he was, this “Reeve” boy was surely far too clueless to be much of a threat. Not that it made him any less eerie. She shook her head at him. “Listen, you should really be more careful out in the wild. It’s dangerous out here all alone.”

He grinned, and once more Cirilla found herself unsettled by his rampant joy. “It’s alright, Ciri. I just want to play!”

“You… what?” She couldn’t help but half-laugh at the proposition. So much of her recent passed had been consumed with running, hiding, and generally being on guard. The world wasn’t _safe_ , and when it wasn’t safe you had to keep your wits about you. “Reeve, we can’t just… play out here in the forest. What if a monster finds us?”

“They won’t!” he happily replied. It brought no comfort to her, but that hardly seemed to matter to him. He grabbed her hand and started to run deeper into the forest. “Come on!”

Cirilla had no time to protest before her feet were speeding along the forest floor, struggling to keep up with the young, energetic Reeve. “Hey! Wait!” she called. The corners of her mouth curled, and her next breath jittered on its way passed her lips. “Slow down!”

Within minutes, Cirilla was chasing after Reeve, face stretched out into a wide, exhilarated smile. At some point, Reeve’s hand had slipped out of hers, but it didn’t stop her from chasing after him. She’d thought she’d tired of running, but somehow this was different… This was _fun_! Reeve’s laughter was infectious, and even the birdsong dancing around their heads seemed to celebrate their joy.

“Gotcha!” Cirilla cried, lunging forward to grab Reeve’s shoulders.

With a shrill laugh, Reeve turned just out of reach, her fingertips brushing against the fabric of his tunic. “Nu-uh!”

Cirilla lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. Reeve whirled to face her, alarmed, but to his great relief Cirilla had caught herself just enough to temper the fall. She rolled onto her back, still laughing as she laid upon the ground. “This is incredible!” she rejoiced. “I haven’t had this much fun since…” She hesitated, suddenly growing quiet.

Beside her, Reeve quieted as well, settling into a cross-legged sit beside her. She looked at him, and to her surprise there was a kind of reservation to his smile, much calmer and composed than he’d been earlier. “Since you left Cintra?”

Cirilla sat bolt upright, eyes alight with fury. “How do you—”

“I’m sorry!” Reeve quickly replied, shying away from her and throwing his hands up defensively. “I… I didn’t want to scare you…”

“Scare me?!” she cried. Her panic surged, and she quickly twisted upon the floor to face him. “What’s going on, Reeve?! You _are_ from Nilfgaard, aren’t you?!”

“No!” the boy insisted. “I’m not! I…” His eyes glanced around the forest floor. A young sprout poked through a portion of the grass beside him. As Cirilla watched in guarded curiosity, he reached over and plucked it from the ground, then held it out to her.

Her lips parted to refute the strange token, but her words fell into an awed gasp as, before her eyes, the sprout shivered, then grew, then at last fully bloomed into a bright, vibrant flower, all right there in the palm of his hand. Warily, she reached out and touched the flower’s delicate petals - they were soft to the touch, bending easily against her fingertips. “You’re a sorcerer?”

Reeve grinned. She looked up, and only then noticed his emerald eyes had begun to glow, bright and beautiful and ominous. “I’m a god.”

Slowly, her brow furrowed. At his encouragement, she took the flower from his hand, idly taking to twirling it between her fingertips as she puzzled over his words. “What… do you mean?” she murmured. She wracked her brain, but in no lore she’d ever been taught could she recall hearing of a “Reeve,” nor even _any_ divine little boy.

“I heard you praying,” he admitted, guiltily looking off in one direction. She followed his gaze and to her total surprise saw the forest’s edge, the townspeople still bustling about unawares. “The forest is my domain, you see. You stood at my doorstep, and you wanted to play.” He looked back at her so suddenly it made her start, his expression returned to an overwhelming grin. “I’m good at playing, see!”

She simply blinked at him. Surely, she was being tricked? But… he wasn’t exactly _wrong_ about it all… She _had_ hoped, dearly, for just one moment of being a kid again, and what was “hoping” if not unstructured praying? She narrowed her eyes at him. “So… the forest is telling you what I’m thinking? That’s how you knew my name? And about Cintra?”

Reeve giggled, then stood up and offered her a hand. To prove the point, he replied, “Geralt’s still arguing with the innkeep.”

Surprise touched Cirilla’s expression - she hadn’t said it, but a part of her had been worried Geralt was looking for her. Though she remained unsure just how much she could _really_ trust this boy, and all he was saying, she ultimately took his hand and let him help her to a stand. “I should still get back to him,” she replied gently. “I don’t want to think about what he’d do if he thought someone took me.”

“I know,” he sighed, expression drooping. He thought for a moment, then hesitantly looked up at her. His eyes had ceased to glow, but still the sun gleamed off their brilliant hues - divine or not, he was certainly unnatural. “Did you have fun, at least?”

Cirilla looked down at the flower in her hands. It was a simple question with a deceptively complicated answer. “I can say I enjoyed myself, at least,” she replied, admittedly wary of angering Reeve - after all, if he really _was_ a good, she didn’t much like the idea of getting on his bad side. On the other hand, if the forest was betraying her thoughts anyhow, she doubted she’d fare much better lying to him outright. “I think I need to just… learn to have fun again, I suppose. And that sort of thing is difficult to do when you’re on the run.”

In her unease, Reeve saw an opportunity, his manner encouraged to brighten once more. “Well… would you like to? Learn, I mean.” He planted his fists on his hips and puffed out his chest. “Cuz ‘fun’ is something I’m _great_ at!”

Marveling at how quaint and unassuming Reeve seemed, Cirilla couldn’t help but laugh. “Indeed you are!” Gazing back down at her flower, her smile lingered upon her lips. She pondered her strange experience a moment longer, then softly replied, “Yes… I think I would.”

“Would _what_?”

Cirilla spun around, wide eyes falling upon a piercing, yellow glare. “Geralt!”

Geralt sighed, reaching out to lay a firm, guiding hand upon her shoulder. “Come on. You can’t go running off like that!”

“I was just—” she began, but when she turned look over her shoulder she saw not but forest, peaceful and quiet and still. She smiled, tickled by the odd boy’s slipperiness, then turned back around and let Geralt lead her back to the town, flower held close to her heart. “Just having a look,” she finished aloud. But silently, her thoughts remained with the forest.

_Until next time, my friend!_


End file.
